


You Stole My Heart

by EndoratheWitch, Lynn_Nexus



Category: Strange Magic (2015)
Genre: Bank Robbery, F/M, Human Bog, Human Marianne, Maybe some smut later, Shooting Guns, getaways, roland being a huge douche
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-19
Updated: 2017-12-17
Packaged: 2018-06-03 04:00:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6595822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EndoratheWitch/pseuds/EndoratheWitch, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lynn_Nexus/pseuds/Lynn_Nexus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bog has a very boring job at a  bank until a woman named Marianne shows up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Counting Coins

**Author's Note:**

> This was suppose to be based on a funny prompt from Miss Teddy but it completely went somewhere else. I lost all control.

Bog hated his job as a bank teller. It was boring. Not only boring, but trying to maintain a smile all day was excruciating. The same tedius tasks, day in and day out. He took a deep breath as he counted out bills for the elderly woman in front of him. She was your stereotypical old customer who thought that a teller should take care of the bag of pennies she brought in, instead of the machine designed exactly for that. Bog had always assumed the little old ladies carrying huge bags of coins was a cartoon thing, but here she was... 

He glanced up from counting to see a woman walk in. She was gorgeous. Short brown hair, electric eyes highlighted in smoky purple, dressed all in black. It was an effort of will for his mouth not to drop open. She was one of those women that made a guy forget how to speak, or think. Bog swallowed, she was also way out of his league. She walked over to the teller next to him. Theo Thangle, or Thang as everyone called him. Thang was a short man, with huge glasses and hair he could not seem to keep from poking straight up, no matter how much gel the poor guy used. He and Thang were friends of a sort having both started here at the same time. While Thang loved his job, Bog daily wanted to shoot himself in the head by the end of his shift. Today though, Bog was jealous of the little guy to get that woman in his line. Bog shook his head slightly, going back to counting out coins. 

The woman made it to the window and Thang greeted her in his usual cheery way. “Good morning! Welcome to the Dark Forest bank—how can I help you today?” 

The woman, who Bog was having a difficult time keeping his eyes off of, slipped Thang a note. Bog was too enamored for any alarm bells to go off until Thang became quiet. Bog's blue eyes slid over to Thang with a frown and then back at the woman who smiled. This time Bog noticed the gun. Oh, shit. She glanced at him. “Not a word, big boy or this is going to get messy.” 

Bog blinked. Did she just call him “big boy?” 

But that was about the time the old lady with the bag of coins that Bog had been tirelessly counting, saw the gun too and let out an ear-piercing shriek. 

“A GUN!!!!” 

The woman turned with her weapon out and then Bog noticed there was a man in black, and three others near the door looking so nervous Bog couldn't really believe that they were robbers. The old woman whose change he had been counted turned and ran for the door at a surprising speed managing to get out before the other two shut the door. The man came jogging over and yelled. 

“EVERYONE DOWN!”

He was blonde and good-looking which was all Bog got a glimpse of before he pulled his knit cap down over his face, hiding it. Bog snorted to himself, the guy was a bit slow for a bank-robber. The man snarled at his accomplices who were hovering by the door. “Cover your faces, you idiots and get everyone on the floor NOW!” 

The woman with Thang hissed as the man stepped forward. He swaggered over to her despite their current situation. “Good job, Marianne.” 

She hissed back. “Don't use my name, you fuck! I am only doing this for my father!” 

Bog could see the man sneer behind the mask. Bog put his hands up. “Look, just take what you want—don't hurt anyone.” 

He glanced sideways at the woman, Marianne, whose brown eyes caught his and held him. He was sure he saw a plea in those eyes. 

The man snarled looking Bog up and down. Bog didn't look too intimidating in his dark slacks, white shirt and tie, suspenders and glasses. He looked like a bank teller! 

The man shoved his gun in Bog's face which was a bit of a reach considering Bog towered over everyone. “Look, fucker. Shut up and get the money.” 

The man with the gun reached over and grabbed the note from Thang shoving it at Bog. “Alright, smart mouth, you're going to get us the money, got it? Do anything stupid I'm going to put a hole in that ugly face of yours.” 

Bog scowled, but nodded. The woman, Marianne paled, but she held her gun on him as well. “Come on.” She motioned with the barrel of her weapon. The blonde man stayed outside yelling and threatening the patrons while Marianne, gun to his lower back, pushed Bog to the vaults. 

“Okay, can you open it?” she asked quietly. There was a rage under her words that Bog could feel. “Why are you doing this?” he asked as he started to put the combination into the keypad. 

“Money.” She said it with a flat note which caused Bog to glance over his shoulder at her. 

“There's more isn't there?” Bog asked. 

Marianne pressed her lips together into a thin line. “Look, you don't need to get involved.” 

Bog took a chance and turned around. “Maybe I want to get involved.” 

“Why?” She looked up at him. That was when Marianne was really knocked by the realization of how blue his eyes were while he gazed down at her. Bog saw a deep struggle in her brown eyes. “You look like you could use a friend.” 

She pressed her lips together and then glanced back where the others were waiting. “Look, I'm being made to do this. Roland, the guy that threatened you? He has my father and my sister.” 

“Why? I mean why force you to do this?” Bog looked confused. Marianne sighed. “It's a really long story...” 

Bog held one large hand up. “Fine, I understand.” 

He turned back to the vault and then slowly grinned. “I have an idea. Take me hostage.” 

“What? Why?” Marianne glanced back to where Roland and his goons were waiting. 

“Well, first off I can't get you into the vault, only the bank manager can to that and he isn't here. So if you guys want to get out, you're going to need a hostage.” Bog smiled. 

“Are you serious? You can't open it?” Marianne looked about ready to panic. 

“Nope.” Bog gave her a crooked toothed grin that made her think this guy might be insane. 

“You really want me to take you hostage?” She looked shocked and unsure. 

He grinned. “Yes...okay, well no, but I want to help you.” 

“This is really dangerous. You know this isn't a game right?” Marianne looked upset. 

Bog nodded. “Aye, I do. But you also need an ally.” 

She stared at him, his blue eyes looked so honest and trustworthy...and something she wasn't used to—sincere. This man, whom she had at gun-point, really did want to help her.


	2. Duct Tape

This was a bad idea. This whole thing was a bad idea, but this part—oh, this was particularly bad, Marianne realized. Marianne held Bog's upper arm with one hand (she attempted to hold his upper arm, but he was also extremely tall, so she only managed to grasp his elbow), the barrel of her gun pressed against his lower back. He could feel her shaking slightly. Bog hissed over his shoulder, 

“Yer doing fine.” 

The young woman glanced up giving Bog a little smile before the two of them walked out front. She came out with him and snarled at Roland. 

“He doesn't know the combo! The bank manager does and he isn't here!” 

Roland turned cursing. It was clear Roland was losing control of the situation. Marianne took a deep breath and glanced up at the back of Bog's head before she spoke. 

Marianne snarled at Roland while maintaining her hold on Bog. “ Okay...Look, we need a hostage if we are going to get out of the bank.” 

Roland spit. “Not without the money! Fuck!” 

Marianne snapped. “There is no money to get! We can't get into the vault!” 

Bog took over, sneering at Roland. “You're not going to get out of here. The cops will be here and yer going to be stuck.” 

Roland's hand shook for a moment. He aimed his weapon at Bog. It was clear he wanted to shoot Bog for no other reason than anger. Roland was on the edge of violence, but he was also scared. Roland was acting the “big bad” criminal, but it was clear to Bog that he had no idea what he was doing. Instead Roland glanced at Marianne. 

“Fine, we're taking that fucker with us. You do anything, I will kill you myself,” Roland snarled at Bog before he turned to the rest of their victims in the bank “Everyone empty your pockets! I ain't leaving here empty handed!” 

The patrons emptied their wallets and purses, removed jewelry, with Roland taking whatever he thought would be of value motioning for his goon squad to gather everything up and throw it into the bags they had brought with them. Their “haul” was pathetic: a bit of cash, some jewels, an expensive watch, and a few cellphones. 

Bog hissed at Marianne who still stood with the gun to his back. “This guy really is crazy. He has no idea what he's doing does he?” 

Marianne nodded whispering back. “You have no idea...” 

Roland turned swinging his gun around pointing the weapon at all the patrons and employees, his green eyes slightly crazed. 

“All right...everyone...” 

His words were cut off by the sound of police sirens outside. A rumble went through the hostages, a hope of rescue. Marianne hissed low. “Oh no.” 

Roland snarled and ripped off his mask to throw it across the room. “Fuck fuck fuck!” 

“My car is out back. If we hurry...” Bog whispered to Marianne. 

She grimaced then nodded. “Roland! This guy has a car in the back, I say we take him and get out of here now!” 

Roland swung around glaring at Marianne and her hostage. He held his weapon up the barrel facing Bog. It seemed to Bog, that for just a moment Roland was considering shooting him, but then the blonde nodded, holding the weapon steady. “All right ugly, take us to your car.” 

The three of them, plus Roland's other “gang” members, followed Bog and Marianne through the back of the bank. They were all rushing knowing they only had a short amount of time before the police were surrounding the bank. Bog led them to a door. Roland rushed toward the door grabbing the handle, but the door wouldn't budge. 

“FUCK!! You fuck, this is a trap!!” Roland swung around aiming the barrel of his gun at Bog's s stomach. “You know a belly shot is the worst. You can live for hours while you bleed to death.” 

Bog paled, clearly scared, but his voice was calm. He pushed his glasses up his nose. “Just let me get my keys out and I can open the door.” 

Marianne, who was standing to the side of Bog with her weapon on him glared at Roland. “Just let him open the door.” 

Roland narrowed his eyes, but Marianne hissed. “You're wasting time!!” 

Roland spit. “Fine! Get the door open!” 

Bog nodded pulling his bank keys out of his front pants pocket and proceeded to open the door. He pushed the door open. Roland rushed out ahead of him, with Marianne sticking close to Bog, with the last of the gang spilling out behind them. 

Bog pointed. “That's my car.” 

The car that Bog pointed to was a 1976 red Ford Pinto which looked like at the most as if was really only going to seat three of them. 

Roland's eyes widened as he said incredulously, “That's your fucking car?” Then in the next breath he turned the gun on his goons. “Go! Get the fuck out of here before I shoot you all!” 

The three pulled their masks away. Bog was a little shocked to see they were triplets. 

“Roland you can't leave us man!” one of the three whined. 

Roland drew the hammer back on his semi-automatic pistol, aimed at the face of the young man who had spoken which caused all three to put their hands up. “Look, I ain't leaving you. I mean you guys are capable, you can find your way out of this; but we need the hostage and you three are just not going to fit in that shitty little car. So go get one of the other cars, hot wire it and follow us. All right?” 

The three looked unsure, but Bog quickly realized they simply couldn't think for themselves. 

One of the others spoke. “All right Roland.” 

They ran over to the next car, a 1980 green Ford Fiesta. Bog could have almost groaned. It had to be Thang's car. Poor Thang Bog thought, he had just bought that old car last month. The little guy had been so proud and happy. Great, Bog thought to himself. Ignoring his henchmen Roland shoved Bog hard causing him to stumble toward his car. “Get in the car, you''re driving, and don't try anything or I'll blow your head off you ugly fucker.” 

Bog pressed his lips together to prevent himself from mouthing off something nasty to Roland. But it was damn difficult, gun or no gun. Bog glanced toward Marianne. She was pale, her eyes burning with hatred toward Roland. Bog couldn't figure out why he felt so strongly about helping this woman, but he was all in with both feet now. He would just have to play this out and hope he could help her without getting shot for it. At least the other bank employees and patrons were safe now. 

Bog fumbled his keys a little, but he was able to shove them in the car's lock when Marianne reached out and gently touched his hand. He glanced toward her again and the lovely young woman gave him a reassuring smile...a smile for him. His heart skipped a beat as he unlocked the car. 

Roland swarmed forward and shoved Bog into the driver's seat causing the taller man to whack his head against the frame. 

Marianne snarled. “Roland stop it!!” 

Roland glared at her. “Just get in the car!” 

Bog hit the button that unlocked the doors. He was scared, he could admit that. He didn't want to be shot, didn't want to die, but he also wanted to help this poor woman who was clearly mixed up in a mess she couldn't get herself out of on her own. Pretty stupid of him to just throw himself into her problems because she had a pretty face, but he felt that it was more than that. Her eyes were what really got to him. Those brown soulful eyes filled with pain. He had to help her, even if he ended up shot in the chest for his efforts, he just needed to help her. 

Bog sighed and tried to calm himself as he put the key in the ignition. Marianne was sitting beside him, holding her weapon on him though Bog did notice she wasn't really pointing it at him. He pressed his lips together on a smile glancing at her trying to communicate that he saw what she was doing and appreciated it. Marianne stared at him with a tiny smile on her lips. Roland clambered around the bucket seat behind Marianne, threw himself into the back seat, and shoved the barrel of his pistol against the back of Bog's head. 

Roland growled. “Get us out of here now. You try anything funny, I blow your head off.” 

Bog couldn't help but mutter just as he shoved his glasses up his long nose. “And lose your driver and probably die in a car crash. Clearly yer the brains of this outfit.” 

He glanced sideways at Marianne who tried to communicate something with her eyes, but Bog frowned not understanding when Roland hit Bog in the back of the head with the gun. “Shut up and drive.” 

Bog grunted in pain, but he started the car and drove as if nothing was wrong. He pulled out of the parking lot behind the back of the bank and headed off to the left. Roland leaned close, his gun pressed to Bog's neck while he gave directions. 

“Take the turn up there on the right and head on to the 2nd past three lights, then another left,” Roland demanded. 

Bog said nothing, simply following the directions. He did glance sideways at Marianne. Marianne shared a glance with Bog, her expression pained. Roland, noticing their shared look chuckled. 

“Looking at my girl, eh?” Roland grinned. “You know there is no way an ugly fuck like you could ever have a chance with a woman like Marianne. She's the kind of girl meant for a guy like me...good-looking, not an ugly glasses-wearing stickbug nerd who works in a bank.” 

Marianne snarled. “I'm not your girl Roland. I'm not your anything! And I like glasses.” 

Bog blushed which he thought was strange of him considering he was a hostage with a gun to his neck, but he blushed all the same. 

Roland put on a fake pout completely missing the look on Bog's face. “Ah come on, Marianne. After this why can't we get back together? You and I look good together.” 

Marianne laughed. “Yeah right. I'm sure Sheila would have all kinds of things to say about that. Roland, nothing in heaven or hell would ever make me want to be with you.” 

Roland pouted sticking out his bottom lip and fluttering his eyes at Marianne. “Ah buttercup, you don't mean that.” 

“I do mean it and a lot worse. If I had my way I would hope your dick gets shot off by that gun you keep acting like you know how to use.” Marianne snarled between clinched teeth. 

Roland frowned with a stunned expression, but he said nothing else except to give Bog directions and press the gun's muzzle just a little harder into his hostage's neck. 

* 

Soon they arrived at a low-rent apartment building on the “bad” side of town, which meant it was just poor with too many homeless, drugs and gangs, but mostly it meant that the police paid little attention to the people that lived here. Roland looked disgusted to be here. He pressed the weapon's barrel hard to Bog's throat. “Try anything and you lose your head.” Roland grinned viciously. “Well, most of it, anyway. Come on Marianne.” 

They all slipped out of the car. Marianne had stopped pretending to hold her gun on Bog, but Roland shoved his weapon against Bog's back forcing him to walk toward the building. This guy was very twitchy, Bog thought to himself. Bog knew he was going to have to be careful or this guy would definitely shoot him. 

Bog's eyes wandered up, taking in the state of the apartment building they entered. The building was old, probably built around the beginning of the 20th century judging by the building's exterior appearance. Currently, it looked to be mostly empty. With Roland holding his gun pressed up hard against Bog's lower back, the trio made their way up several flights of stairs before Roland led them to a door. He pulled out a key from his front pocket, handed it to Marianne who slid the key into the lock and opened the door while Roland kept his weapon aimed at Bog. Bog could hear sounds of other people in the building, but they were muted and luckily, Bog thought, he didn't hear any sounds indicating that there were children in the building. 

When Marianne opened the apartment door, Roland shoved Bog inside, who stumbled and tripped on the edge of a throw rug. Bog fell, slamming his knees against the floor then dropping forward onto his hands. Roland snorted out a laugh coming in behind Bog, followed a moment later by Marianne. Bog, still on his hands and knees, looked up to examine the room. There in the center of the room were two people who Bog had to assume were Marianne's sister and father, a pretty petite blonde and an older gentleman with a blonde beard and matching hair, both tied back to back. They shared enough familial features with each other and with Marianne, Bog perceived that they could be related. Both people were duct taped to a couple of chairs, back to back with tape across their mouths There was another woman in the room with short brown hair and hard green eyes. She sat with a shotgun in her hands, which she must have been holding on the duct taped pair, but which she now had turned to aim at Bog. 

The new woman scowled. “What the hell Roland? Who is that?” 

Roland spit. “I messed up okay? This asshole is our hostage.” He walked past Bog and kicked him in the side. Bog gasped at the sudden pain, dropping to his elbows. “Get the tape and tape his hands behind his back Buttercup.” Roland chuckled. 

“We already have two hostages!! Where's the money?” The woman stood, hissing in anger using the barrel of the shotgun to indicate the two people taped to the chairs. 

“Look! It went south okay! Geez.” Roland sneered at his partner. 

Marianne had run over to her father and sister dropping down to her knees to cup her sister's face before moving over to check on her father. 

She glared at the two of them. “Look, just let them go now okay? You didn't get your money, so you don't need them anymore.” 

Roland narrowed his eyes. “Wait a minute. God I am so stupid!” Roland smacked himself in the forehead with the palm of his hand as Marianne and Bog both held back the obvious retort. “Your daddy has a safe doesn't he? I kinda remember you saying something about it, where he kept your mom's jewelry. How much you figure that stuff is worth Marianne?” 

Marianne stood, balling her fists at her side. She wanted to claw Roland's eyes out and his girlfriend's too. She glared. “You know exactly what happened to all our money Roland. That little bit of jewelry is all I have left of my mother!” 

Sheila laughed. “Oh look Rollie, you made her mad.” 

Marianne narrowed her eyes at the other, but Sheila laughed. “Go on, tape up that ugly thing Roland brought home, Mari. Roland and I need to talk.” 

Marianne walked over to a corner where a roll of duct tape lay on the floor. She picked it up, then stepped over to help Bog to sit back on his knees. She then gently pulled his hands behind his back to tape his wrists together. Bog could tell she was trying to find a way to tape his wrists in such a way that they were loose, but no sooner had she started than Roland came over. “Oh shit, Buttercup, let me do that—you're doing a sickly job.” 

He grabbed the tape from her and bound Bog's wrists good and tight, yanking his arms back painfully. Bog did his best to make no sound. For some reason he just didn't want this cretin to know he hurt him would he pulled Bog's arms tighter, but it was difficult and Bog ended up making a soft grunt. 

Roland chuckled. “Hurt didn't it? Idiot.” He planted his hand between Bog's shoulders and shoved, sending the taller man falling forward. Bog's cheek, jaw and forehead smashed against the floor painfully. Bog grunted in pain while Roland just laughed. 

Sheila chuckled too as she walked over to Roland and put her arm around his shoulders. “You know, jewelry is harder to pawn, but we could do it.” She eyed Marianne. “God this would have been so much easier if your dad wasn't such an asshole and hadn't spend all that money. You could be happily divorced and Rollie and I would be halfway to the Caribbean with your money. But nooo...your stupid father just had to mourn all that money away over a dead woman. Pathetic.” Sheila grinned nastily. “You know, it's all you and your dad's fault that you're in this situation don't you? I mean if our plan had worked you wouldn't be on the wrong side of the law now would you?” Sheila chuckled. “But maybe we can pull out of this with something. How much your mother have? I mean are we talking real jewels, like diamonds and shit or just some fake stuff that no one wants?” 

Bog watched the drama before him while his face was pressed to the floor. Roland and that woman were nuts. They didn't realize this whole thing had spiraled so out of the control that they had no way of getting out of this alive or without going to prison at least, unless they killed everyone in the room. They had three hostages, well actually four if you counted Marianne. There was no outcome where they four of them didn't die...unless he and Marianne could figure a way out of this... 

Marianne refused to answer, clearly communicated by the stubborn look on her face. Sheila snarled. “Fine, be that way. We'll just have to find out for ourselves and you know what, if those things are fake I'm going to take it out on your new friend there...and maybe your sister too.” She pointed at Bog when she spoke. Sheila finally motioned at 

Marianne with the barrel of her gun. “All right, you two come on, get string bean on his feet and over there with the others.” 

Sheila frowned and shot a glance over to Roland. “Why you taking that guy anywho?” 

Sheila motioned at Bog with her weapon. As carelessly as she was holding the gun, Bog hated to think about getting shot because his captors were too stupid to put the safety on their weapons or even treat the deadly guns with anything resembling respect. 

Roland of course, as Marianne noted, spoke as if taking Bog hostage was all his idea, as if he had thought the whole thing through himself instead of having her and Bog give him the idea. “Look, we couldn't get into the vault, the cops had arrived and we needed a way out. This bozo had a car parked in the back that we could get to and he would have been a good bullet soaker if the cops had caught us. So I thought having another hostage was a good idea. And having someone else around will help keep her in line.” Here he pointed at Marianne. 

Sheila frowned. “We don't really need him. I could just shoot him and be done with it.” 

Marianne narrowed her eyes. “Let him go. You have my father and sister to keep me in line, you don't need a stranger.” 

Roland grinned walking over to Marianne with a smug look on his face. “Ah, are you concerned? Better to have him with us don't you think? Otherwise he becomes a liability. He's seen our faces Buttercup. I mean we might just have to kill him anyway.” 

It was clear that Roland was enjoying himself. Marianne dashed over to Bog putting herself in front of him. “Don't you dare touch him!” 

Sheila snickered. “Wow, you're right Roland; she does care about the dork. How funny.” 

Roland looked perturbed. He walked over to Marianne, grabbed her by her shoulder and yanked her away from Bog. Bog glared defiantly up at Roland, his blue eyes never wavering. Roland glared right back, but he just couldn't hold the stare like Bog could. 

Marianne repeated, “Don't touch him!!” 

Roland turned to glare over his shoulder at Marianne. Then, just to be cruel, Roland pistol-whipped Bog across the face. Marianne cried out, but Sheila grabbed her and pushed her gun up against Marianne's back as she wrapped a hand around Marianne's biceps. 

“Oh shut up sweetheart,” the other woman hissed. 

Bog fell to the side as Roland's attack broke his glasses and caused him to crash to the floor. His mouth flooded with the taste of blood. He was dazed by the strike across his cheek as well as striking his head against the floor, stunning him. Dawn and her father both made muffled sounds of protest. 

Roland glared down at Bog and kicked him in the stomach. Bog gasped as the air was knocked out of him, his whole body bending in on itself. Marianne gasped. Roland hauled back to kick Bog again when Sheila spoke up. “Roland stop. Geez, a hostage is no good if you just go and kill him anyways. Come on, let's tie princess here up and go get something to eat.” 

Roland, his foot poised to kick Bog again stopped, then just as he looked to be turning away, he swung back around and kicked Bog again with a nasty laugh. 

“Ha...idiot,” Roland muttered. “Okay Marianne, you know the drill.” 

Marianne got down on her knees, hands behind her back, next to Bog. Roland retrieved the duct tape and wrapped her wrists making sure they were firmly bound. He stepped back. “You guys be good while we're gone. Maybe we will bring you back something to eat.” 

“Roland, if you don't bring us back food and water...” Marianne warned with a glare. 

Roland laughed. “Oh stop worrying. You know I will. Geez. Come on Sheila.” 

Together the two criminals left the room. Marianne quickly scooted herself over to Bog. It was awkward, but she laid down beside him facing him. His nose was bleeding, there was blood dribbling from his mouth and there he had a nasty pressure cut along his cheek that was bleeding and bruising. “Oh my God! Are you all right?” Marianne asked softly. 

“Bog,” Bog said the word softly. 

“What?” Marianne looked confused, but he smiled at her despite his swelling bottom lip and the bleeding cut across it. 

“I don't think I ever formally introduced myself. My name is Bog King.” 

Marianne stared at him, then she started to laugh, tears springing to her eyes. She scooted close to the strange man and pressed her head gently against his and started to cry.


End file.
